never trust a wayfarer-wearing hipster.

After an especially tantrum-filled morning, Henry earned the rare nap.

He didn't sleep. Like usual.

After 45 minutes of boisterous play plus some intermittent rage straight into the monitor, walkie-talkie-style, **YOU KNOW I DON'T NAP. OVER.**, I gave up.

I found him pantsless, diaperless, but nonetheless, bePolo-ed.

"Haaay, Momma!"

Hey bud! Where are your pants and diaper?

"Over there. Diaper just flew off!"

I forgot my Blogger password.

That's how long it's been since I've thought about sticking my toe in this water. I had to search for the "write a new post" button. What.

Food, kids, sporadic bursts of dedicated exercise. The gang's still all here...

So.

food:

Did you know that if you mix two cans of pumpkin with a box of Betty Crocker butter pecan cake mix and bake in muffin tins for 20 minutes that it creates magic? When you eat it, think "pancake." Don't dare think "maple" because it will ruin your life. I don't know if it's healthier than the real thing, but.. pumpkin. That counts for something.

Today, I ruined a soup with the wrong cheese. With the wrong cheese that cost $11. Which I almost put back, because.. $11. FOR CHEESE? And now it's a fibrous, stiff $11 blob in the bottom of the pot, which I forlornly abandoned. I had to walk away. I'm shunning it and hoping it turns into something else, but it won't*. Because I bought the wrong cheese.

kids:

So I walked upstairs with the very last Reese's Egg...to drown my sorrows about the soup. Henry heard me opening it.. He asked what it was, and with some fumbling and hesitation, I blurted out, "Toilet soap."

...toilet soap?

I feel 1% guilty. Both kids have been sick, anyway. At this tender juncture, a Reese's might still be ill-advised.

Last Wednesday night, I heard Henry cough a few times. I casually fumbled my way down to his room to give him a little cuddle and some water. As I gently caressed his blonde hair, it was... wet. And chunky.

Just as his load of laundry was finishing up, the power went out.

About 15 minutes later, I heard Harper cry out, and I thought, "Oh.. her nightlight. No posse of projected ceiling Disney princesses to protect her." Except when I fumbled my way down to her room, barf also.

The power came on around 4 a.m. The good news is, I was already awake, cleaning up the hurl that happened every hour on the hour, to turn off all the random appliances that come to life and normally scare the wits out of people in such a situation.

It was the world's longest stomach bug. Today is the first day they've even mustered the energy to be annoyed by each other.

 

I've been letting them watch some TV while they convalesce. This is how Henry watches TV. It's relaxing for everyone involved.

Maybe the end of blogging directly correlated with his being confidently mobile. Or being Batman. Because this is how Batman looks right before he unassumingly steps backwards off of a skyscraper. Which Henry did, without warning, about 5 seconds after I took this.

exercise:

I've done the first month of T-25 three full times. Most recently, I had to take a three week hiatus because I fiercely kicked a solid wood Melissa & Doug alligator push toy and am now minus one big toenail for sandal season. Eh. It's not a race, mostly because it's just jumping up and down. I know all the choreography by heart. Like Britney at the 2007 VMAs.

*The soup was fine. The cheese totally dissolved. Excellent soup. Excellent cheese. Amen.

Pumpkin Patch 2013

In our family, "fun" family outings go like this:

Thursday -
Me: We should go to [insert all manner of outings which should serve beer. including, but not limited to: museums, zoos, parks, gardens, pumpkin patch or pretty much anywhere with a bouncy house or requires copious amounts of hand sanitizer] this weekend!
Brandon: Yeah. Harper would love it.

Friday -
Me: ((checks weather & website for any excuse to default on said fun)) Ah oh. It's looking like good weather and, oh great, not prohibitively expensive, either.
Brandon: Yeah. Harper will love it.

Saturday Morning -
Henry: from crib: "Maaaaaahmaaaaaa!"
Me: Yesss... it's Saturday. Wait.. oh no. Fun day.
Brandon: ((silence all morning.. hates all the things.))
Harper: omggggg!

Whatever it is always ends up actually being OK. Sometimes, dare I say, fun.

So, with that, the Phillips Reluctantly Do Pumpkin Patch '13


Harper getting her jump on while I stifle the mental image of her flying off of that thing like a cannonball should she get 'popped' by someone who weighs more:

In our family, we always do things the easy way - like putting on shoes, for example:

 

Harper on the hayride:

 

This is what Harper does when I tell her to smile for a picture. Obviously, I'm waiting with bated breath for her official preschool portraits:

 

 

Henry doesn't fancy shenanigans. Shenanigan #1: Seated too far from the tractor. Not amused.

 

 

Blue Steel. 

 

 

The only other picture of him that wasn't a blur.

 

 

Then this, x 27 or so. Henry, meanwhile, not pictured and..not amused.

 

 

Finally, a typical family portrait.

 

 

 

 

Possibly Unpopular Opinion of the Week

I love words. In fact, I have a hard time reading novels because I get word envy.

word envy - n. unwarranted jealousy experienced by me when an author uses a stronger, more descriptive word than expected.

Also, I acknowledge that a well-developed vocabulary nearly extinguishes the need for... "swear words."

However, I believe with my whole heart that there is a time and a place - wherein there exists no substitute - to fervently drop the f-bomb.

ironically 30.

I guess it's just like a stupid almost 30 year old to wax nostalgic about their "fleeting" youth instead of enjoying it, but. . .

 No one told me that at 30, I'd still feel like a kid:

Still making snap decisions with my heart and gut instead of experience. Shouldn't I know what to do, by now?

Still choosing sides, still lying awake, wondering if I chose correctly. Shouldn't I know who to trust, by now?

Still needing encouragement and reassurance when it looks like I'm doing o.k, anyway. Why can't I just do it 'my own self,' yet?

Still failing to stand up for myself, even when I know I'm right.  How haven't I learned to spit it out?

Still worried about how others judge me & how I judge others. Isn't there only One opinion that matters?
 
Still wondering what I'll be and what I'll do, even though that's now. Will I ever know an opportunity when I see it?

Still watching others hurt and hurting with them, knowing I can do little to affect it. Where is this thick skin of which people speak and shouldn't I have it, by now?

Still sticking my foot in my mouth and giving my opinion when it isn't wanted. Why hasn't my foot gotten smaller in 30 years?

Still feeling the sting of rejection and of others' words and actions, even though it's nothing new. Shouldn't I see that coming after all this time?

Still trying to grow up, while I watch two babies run and laugh and play together and learn and fall and get back up and ...grow up. 

Maybe being a 30 year old kid isn't so bad after all.  

she lives for the applause

 

 

I liberty the claws, the claws, the claws

I liberty the claws claws, liberty the claws claws

The way the chinchilla squeaks at me

I liberty the claws, the claws, the claws.

to the republic, for which it stands.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I've never thought to teach Harper the Pledge of Allegiance. Honestly, my job felt done after she began confidently belting out the chorus of Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.

The good news is, she's been in preschool for a couple of weeks, and I think they say it every day, because today, she taught it to me:

I pleasure to the flag

the united city and God

where the witches stand

God and liberty

and just for kids.